


Eventually

by angellwings



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Cigar Chat, F/M, Friendship, Growth, Introspection, One Shot, Pining, Spoilers, episode tag: s09e02 That Kind of Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27637526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings
Summary: He doesn’t like it when Sylvie’s upset. Especially if she might be upsetat him.But it seems all he did was make thingsworse.Becauseof coursehe did. That’s all he’s known how to do for as long as he can remember — in his personal life at least.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 55
Kudos: 214





	Eventually

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Spoilers for 9x02 if you haven’t seen it!
> 
> Okay, first things first, let’s all take a breath. I know some of you may have a little bit of emotional whiplash, but keep the faith. That ending is actually GOOD for us. It means the show is taking our ship seriously, it means they’re treating Matt and Sylvie with care, it means they’re setting up a beautiful long game.
> 
> They’ll sort it out, all in due time.
> 
> Hopefully, this little one shot helps!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo

_******_

_“Eventually all things fall into place. Until then, laugh at the confusion, live for the moments, and know everything happens for a reason.”_

_\- Albert Schweitzer_

_******_

What the _fuck_ just happened?

He bangs hand against the middle console in his truck and then scrubs that hand over his face.

He’s an idiot.

Plain and simple.

A goddamn idiot.

He’s spent nearly two years imagining what kissing her might be like. _Two years_. It actually happens and it’s so much more than he ever imagined it to be. Hell, he was never even sure she felt what he did. Not until her slip up in the bunkroom the other day. A glimmer of it slipped through her expression. She tried to cover but he saw it. He had to find out for sure though. Which is where Molly’s came in. 

That moment, when he’s eyes met hers and the world fell away…

He could swear the ground underneath him shook. The softness and affection in her stare hit him like a force of nature. Oh, she felt it alright. It was _palpable_. It hung in the air like summertime humidity, thick and swampy. 

Then she left. Not just left, _ran_. She avoided him the rest of their 48 off and their next 24 on. So, yeah, when he headed out for Molly’s he took a detour. An impulsive, near frantic, detour. Was it him? Did he do something? Maybe he showed his hand too much?

He needed to know and he needed to fix it. 

He doesn’t like it when Sylvie’s upset. Especially if she might be upset _at him_.

But it seems all he did was make things _worse_.

Because _of course_ he did. That’s all he’s known how to do for as long as he can remember — in his personal life at least. 

He slams the truck door, replaying those last few seconds as he heads toward Severide’s. If Gabby came back, right now--tonight, and asked him to leave with her, would he go? How had he not seen that question coming? It shouldn’t have blindsided him. _But it did_. Gabby’s been so distant from his life lately that he’d never stopped to consider it.

Would he go with her?

With only a few seconds to think of an answer and sort through his feelings…

He wasn’t sure.

He said, _I don’t know_.

He scoffs bitterly to himself as he walks toward the apartment door. How does he not know? He’s been divorced two years and his knee jerk honest to god answer is... _I don’t know_.

He circles back around to his original point.

He’s a fucking idiot.

And trying to sidestep the question at first certainly didn’t help. He knew Sylvie better than that. She would never accept a half answer.

But watching her face fall after he gave his _real_ answer?

It’s breaking him. It’s burned into the backs of his eyelids. He closes his eyes and he sees _her_. Eyes watering, brow crinkled, voice thick -- _thanking him for his honesty_.

She fucking _thanked him_. He sat there and watched her heartbreak and she _thanked him for it_. What sort of asshole is he? And then she threw him for another loop by taking a meaning away from his words that he sure as hell didn’t intend.

_“I guess that I knew you were still in love with Gabby all along so this is--this is on me.”_

How did ‘would you leave with Gabby’ become ‘are you still in love with Gabby’? Yes, okay, he can see the correlation but…

Did one thing really imply the other? _And_ then she had to go and try to take the _blame_ on top of that? _On her_? How in any universe, continent, era of time is _any_ of what happened on her? They’re both feeling things. He kissed her _too_. And, sure, he’s always going to love Gabby -- they were married -- did that mean he couldn’t also have strong feelings for Sylvie?

Okay, no, stop. That time he hears it. He understands.

That’s why his “ _It’s more complicated than that_ ” fell short.

Because Sylvie is right. She’s _always_ right. 

It’s _not_ more complicated than that.

Or it shouldn’t be. She deserves more than _it’s complicated_ from him or anyone else.

She’s so damn brave. She could have just let them happen. But no, that’s not Sylvie. He wouldn’t want that to be Sylvie. One of the best things about Sylvie is that she’s not afraid to ask for what she wants or determine how she _should_ be treated. He’s always admired that about her -- even before they became...well whatever the hell they are.

No, this isn’t _on her_.

This is all _on him_.

He got himself into this mess by actively ignoring the damage Gabby left in her wake. He let her become this ghostly figure in the back of his mind -- or a bad habit that he refuses to shake -- instead of casting her out like he should have done the secondhe signed those divorce papers.

He thought he was making progress. He _thought_ he was moving on.

But all his attempts at moving on prior to this were obvious non-starters. He knew they weren’t going to be long term commitments, but this time…

This time it’s not just anyone.

It’s Sylvie Brett.

She’s the personification of a dream come true. The fact that she’s still available is a miracle in and of itself and a sign that men, including himself, are freaking morons _._ No, if he goes down this road with Sylvie then it needs to be _for keeps_. None of the tentative half assed exploration he’s done in the two years since the divorce is good enough for her.

He needs to close the door on Gabby for good or let Sylvie go.

She should be with someone who won’t be held hostage by their demons.

Who can love her the way she deserves -- care for _her_ the way she cares for _everyone else_. 

Water stings his eyes as he yanks open the door and slams it behind him.

God, he wanted that person to be him. 

The entire time he was kissing her and holding her, he was in awe and wrapped up in utter joy. She wanted _him_? Sylvie Brett in all her otherworldly kindness...wanted a complete _dork_ like him? Yeah, that’s right, he knows he’s a dork. She turns him into the version of himself he thought he left behind in junior high. But he can’t help it. Her presence, when it takes a turn to be affectionate, is so heady that any and all of his stoic composure goes out the window.

She makes him _giddy_. 

Which is something he’s not sure if he’s ever been.

Okay, maybe a handful of times, but never as frequently as he is _with her_.

So, the idea that she might let him all the way in -- drop her walls and _choose_ to shower him with her goodness -- felt _indescribable_. For a few short seconds, the world was full of hope and possibilities. Even in 2020. Which is truly remarkable, if you ask him.

For a bright, shining moment he thought he had the entire world in his hands.

But like everything else good in his life, that moment ended.

“Damn, Casey,” Kelly calls as he angles himself to look at him over the back of the couch. “You got a grudge against my door or something?”

He didn’t even notice Severide was sitting there when he walked in and, for the life of him, he can’t bring himself to answer his question. Or even say hello. He’s got nothing brewing inside of him but heartache and self loathing.

He opens his mouth to try and speak but no words come out. Instead, he shakes his head and turns, cutting a direct path to his room.

“Let me guess,” Severide says with a long suffering sigh. “You _didn’t_ resolve it?”

Casey whips back around, leveling his best friend with a hard stare.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not the one looking like he wants to fling himself under an elevator car... _again_ ,” Kelly replies with a grin. “You need to get anything off your chest, man?”

It’s that joke and that question that finally free the words from the back of his throat.

“I screwed up, and I don’t think I can fix it.”

Severide stares at him with narrowed analytical eyes for a beat before he stands, grabs the three finger cigar case off the coffee table, and nods to the door behind Matt. “Cigars on the roof,” he declares. “Now.”

He’s already dressed for the weather so he doesn’t need a moment to grab a jacket or change. He simply turns right back around and does as he’s told -- heads to the roof.

They plant themselves in a couple of lawn chairs, light up the cigars, and smoke in silence for several minutes. Matt doesn’t know how to start this conversation and Severide is content to let Casey meander his way through it. It feels like any other night smoking cigars -- except for the image of Sylvie’s crumpled face playing on a loop in his mind.

He swallows thickly and bites the bullet.

“You know it’s been two years since the divorce?” He asks, rhetorically. “And, now that I think about it, two years since the condo fire?”

Severide bobs his head in agreement. “Sounds about right.”

“And yet...I’m still _here_ ,” Matt states with a bitter chuckle, gesturing to the roof around him as evidence. “Renting a _room_ in _your_ apartment and not living much of a life outside 51. Does that strike you as odd at all?”

“I think...I think everybody moves at different speeds,” Kelly says, sagely. “You’ll move on when you’re ready.”

“And how will I _know_ when I’m ready, exactly? Is there gonna be some sort of blinking neon sign? Or…” His questions fades, knowing the answer before he even finishes. “Do you have to _work_ at it? What if I’m ready now and I’m just too damn stubborn to admit it?”

He’s met with silence and turns a desperate gaze on Severide. “I’m genuinely asking. Yeah, I moved forward from Hallie all those years ago, but I didn’t have a choice. It was move forward or let the grief swallow me up -- this is… _this is entirely different_.”

“First of all,” Severide says, giving Matt a confused glance. “What the hell happened? Second of all, yes. You are entirely too stubborn to be ready to move on and refuse to admit it. It’s a side effect of your overinflated sense of loyalty.”

Casey tilts his head to the side and furrows his brow at Kelly. “That sounded like encouragement wrapped in an insult and I’m not sure what to do with it.”

“Start with what happened,” Severide says with a wry chuckle. “Then maybe I’ll explain.”

“Well, we kissed. _That_ happened.”

Kelly’s eyes widen and smirk spreads across his face. “You and Brett?”

He nods, a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he remembers the feeling of her pressed flush against him. If he could freeze himself in one moment in time, that would be it. But the memory bursts, like a bubble, and he’s suddenly back on the cold roof in a rickey lawn chair. 

“And then she asked me a question.”

“Well, that’s never good.”

“Nope.”

“What was the question?”

“If Gabby came back, right now--tonight, and asked me to leave with her would I go?”

Severide grimaces. “Oh God, tell me you didn’t say what I think you said.”

“I said I don’t know.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.”

“She then asked me to leave, as she rightly should have,” Matt says, finishing the story with a guilty shake of his head. “I feel like an asshole.”

Kelly doesn’t immediately disagree with him. “Is it really the Gabby question that has you tripped up? And you’re not an asshole, by the way. I mean a dumbass maybe but not an asshole.”

He ignores the dumbass remark and focuses on the first question. “What do you mean? What other issue would have me spun out?”

“I just mean, are you sure it’s not, you know, run of the mill fear of the unknown? Dawson is... _familiar_ to you. You were together a long time. She’s like...one of those movies you play while you work cause you’ve seen it a million times and you don’t have to pay attention to it. It’s there, it makes you feel like you’re not alone, but is it really keeping you interested?”

His brow creases as he considers that analogy but Severide’s not done.

“Be honest, when’s the last time you _seriously_ thought about Dawson? Where she is, how she’s doing, even a good memory the two of you share?” 

He sighs in discomfort as he tries to think back and feigns a careless shrug. “I don’t know, I guess, last year. There was a case we had with a mother who almost had her son taken away from her and I...well, it reminded me of--”

“Louie,” Severide finishes, mercifully. “But, in fairness, that was a memory of your _son_. I’m talking about _Gabby_ _Dawson_ and only Gabby Dawson.”

“Aside from that,” he says, rubbing a hand against his temple while he racks his brain further back than that. “Probably right around the time of that whole Firehouse 20 debacle.”

“Okay, and in what context?”

He scoffs as the moment returns to him and grins slightly. “In the context of realizing how much I _did not_ want to spend my next furlough in Puerto Rico.” 

That was the day he deleted her voicemail.

Holy shit. 

Wait.

_Holy shit._

“I am such an idiot.”

“Yes, we knew that.”

“Do you know what else happened around that time? No, you don’t because I never told you,” Matt states, smiling to himself as he remembers. “Sylvie found me, sitting on the back of 81, to give me an update on a patient just because she thought I’d want to know. No other reason. She just...thought it might make me feel better. I deleted Gabby’s voice mail a couple of days after that. I’d never connected the two before but--” He cuts himself off and groans as if he’s pain. “What was that thing you said earlier about my overinflated sense of--”

“Loyalty? See, the thing about you is, you don’t like to leave people behind. Even after they’ve left _you_ behind because too many people have left _you_ , whether they had a choice in the matter or not,” Severide explains. “You know how I know this?”

“How?” Matt asks him, curiously.

“Because I do it too,” Severide replies with a dry grin. “More with family members and friendships than romantic relationships but...it’s the _first_ thing we had in common. Back in the day. And I suspect it’s the thing that’s kept us from hating each other after all these years.”

Casey laughs quietly and nods. “You mean despite you being an egotistical tool?”

“No, I mean despite you being a sanctimonious prick.”

His laughter slows as reality crashes down on him bit by bit.

“I’m in love with Sylvie,” Matt says, confidently.

“Took you long enough to admit it,” Severide says with a chuckle.

He huffs and hangs his head as her teary eyes flash across his consciousness again. “And I just broke her heart no less than an hour ago. I’m so screwed.”

Kelly shakes his head, setting aside his cigar. “No, see, there’s something else about this that’s been bothering me. Brett just...what? _Gave up_?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying very hard not to think about the emotions I saw on her face. They physically hurt me. Last time she looked that upset I was the one to comfort her but this...I can’t comfort her if I’m the one that hurt her,” Casey tells him, brow creasing as his chest begins to ache.

“That’s bullshit,” Severide disagrees. “And you know it. What did Brett actually _say_ to you after you answered her question?”

He blows out a breath and tugs at the collar of his sweater. Suddenly, it feels as if it’s choking him. “That she knew I’d been in love with Gabby all this time.”

“Well, that seems pretty clear to me.”

“Nothing about this situation is clear.”

“Will you stop avoiding your guilt and pain and listen to what she said to you?” Severide asks him with a roll of his eyes. “Between that and her question, you have your answer.”

Obviously with the question she asked she wanted him to say he’d choose Chicago (and Brett) over Gabby (which he’s now _certain_ he would), but the other comment…

“Does she really think I’ve been paying all this attention to her while being _actively_ in love with my ex-wife?” He asks incredulously.

“Well, you have been playing it pretty close to the vest, man,” Severide tells him with a sympathetic wince. “At least until you jumped out of a moving Firetruck for her. That kinda blew your cover.”

“Did Kidd tell you about that?”

“No, Gallo.”

“I gotta talk to that kid about keeping his mouth shut,” he grumbles. He takes a deep breath and thinks about Sylvie’s insecurities. The walls that she let slip, just a little, as he was leaving. “So, not only do I have to prove to her that I love her, but--” He pauses, realizing the second issue is going to be the bigger problem. “But also that she’s not some sort of consolation prize. That I don’t just love her because I can’t have Gabby. Oh, hell. How am I ever going to do that?”

“Considering the lack of words you’ve given her so far,” Severide says teasingly. “Talking it to death might work. But whatever you do, I’d give her some time. Maybe wait till next shift.”

“The more time I give her the longer she sits with all these doubts--”

“You really think she’s going to believe you if you rush right over there right now and tell her you’re sorry and you take it all back? You said you broke her heart. You think she’s going to be open to hearing that when it’s all so fresh? Stella wouldn’t be. In fact, Stella _wasn’t_. It took a while and a lot of effort on my part.” Severide reaches over and pats Matt on the back, smirking evilly at him. “It’s your turn, buddy! It’s gonna _suck_ but it’s gonna be worth it. Eventually.”

He slumps in his lawn chair and scrubs his hands through his hair -- wishing they were Sylvie’s hands instead. The feeling of her hands on him is etched into his memory forever. That’s a good thing too because he may have to go without reliving it for a while.

“ _Eventually_ is a frustrating word.”

Severide snorts derisively and nods. “Tell me about it.”


End file.
